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Narrative Tools forGames: Focalization,Granularity, and theMode of Narrationin Games
Jonne Arjoranta1
AbstractThis article looks at three narratological concepts—focalization, granularity, and themode of narration—and explores how these concepts apply to games. It is shownhow these concepts can be used as tools for creating meaning-effects, which areunderstood here as cognitive responses from the player. Focalization is shown tohave a hybrid form in games. This article also explores the different types of nar-rators and granularities in games, and how these three concepts can be used tocreate meaning-effects. This is done by discussing examples from several games, forexample, Assassin’s Creed III, Skyrim, Fallout: New Vegas, and Civilization.
Keywordsfocalization, granularity, narrative, meaning-effect, mode of narration, perspective
Introduction
Video games have advanced with great strides since their inception. Things like gra-
phical fidelity and the level of simulation achievable in modern games are both awe
1 University of Jyvaskyla, Jyvaskyla, Finland
Corresponding Author:
Jonne Arjoranta, University of Jyvaskyla, P.O. Box 35, FI-40014, Jyvaskyla, Finland.
Email: [email protected]
Games and Culture2017, Vol. 12(7-8) 696-717
ª The Author(s) 2015Reprints and permission:
sagepub.com/journalsPermissions.navDOI: 10.1177/1555412015596271
journals.sagepub.com/home/gac
inspiring and evolving fast enough to make yesterday’s games appear dated. Yet, the
area where games with multimillion dollar budgets still seem to struggle the most
appears to be the story. Telling good stories is not easy. Telling them in games seems
to be even harder. Hopefully, a better understanding of games and the stories in them
will make that task easier. This article provides tools of narratological theory for that
task and shows how these tools can be applied to games.
The term ‘‘video game’’ is here used as a general descriptor for games played on
typically digital platforms like game consoles or personal computers. There are sig-
nificant differences between platforms that are not considered here, but which may
affect the way games are experienced. This is especially true with the rise of new
types of play (e.g., casual and asynchronous) and new platforms (e.g., the smart
phone). Discussing these differences would be outside the scope of this article. For
the same reason, this article will not discuss nondigital games, even if the differences
would arguably be even greater than between different digital platforms. Although
this article focuses on video games, it is not argued that these meaning-effects are
limited to digital games. On the contrary, similar meaning-effects could be achieved
in analog games.
Aarseth (2003) underlines the importance of the game scholar’s personal experi-
ence of playing games. I have played most of the games discussed here but not all of
them. As Aarseth (2003) suggests, more emphasis is given to the examples I am
more familiar with.
Game Narratology
To understand games using narratological concepts, one has to take special care in
applying them. The narratological concepts used here were not created with games
in mind, and instead of games, narratological research has mostly been conducted
on other media. However, using narratological theory to understand games has a
long, if contested, tradition in the short history of game studies (e.g., Frasca,
2003; Simons, 2006).
The analysis in this article borrows heavily from the literary strand of narratolo-
gical theory. This foregrounds games as forms of storytelling, as opposed to discuss-
ing them as drama (Ryan, 2002). Other approaches building on, for example,
cinema, theater, or role-play could also be used but would require a different analy-
tical framework. This article uses the concepts of focalization, granularity, mode of
narration, and meaning-effects, all borrowed from literary studies.
Some researchers have expressed a worry of game studies being ‘‘colonized’’ by
other fields with their own interests, issues, and framings, and thereby translating
games into terms that are ill equipped to handle them (e.g., Aarseth, 1997, 2001).
However, it has been pointed out that although classical narratological concepts are
not perhaps applicable to games as such, this does not delimit narratology to the
world outside games. The application just needs to be aware of the differences
Arjoranta 697
between games and other media and perhaps the limitations those differences cause
(Aarseth, 2012; Calleja, 2013; Pearce, 2005; Ryan, 2002, 2013; Tavinor, 2009).
One example is the difference between scripted narratives and emergent or
interactive narratives, as described by Tavinor (2009). Ryan (2002, p. 594) follows
a similar line of thought when she emphasizes how some media are better suited
for some narratives than others: ‘‘there are plot types and character types that are
best for the novel, others are best for oral storytelling, and yet others are best for
the stage or the cinema. The question, then, is to decide which types of stories are
suitable for digital media.’’ When discussing game narratives, it is also important
to acknowledge the limits that player freedom sets to narration. It may be that nar-
rative is in a more or less permanent contradiction with play (Sicart, 2011) or inter-
activity (Ryan, 2002).
One distinction that may help understand this analysis is the difference between
content and expression (Montfort, 2007). While this is not the only way to make this
distinction (cf. Genette, 1980), it is useful enough for the purposes of this article.
Following this distinction, this article is more interested in expression than content:
how things are expressed, rather than what is being expressed. The focus is on meth-
ods that could be used to express all kinds of things, and the examples highlight
specific illustrations of this.
There are many strands of narrativity in narratology, with some approaches liken-
ing all human meaning making to a form of narration (e.g., Flanagan, 1992). Even
highly abstract games can be analyzed with narratological tools, like analyzing
Space Invaders (Taito Corporation, 1978) as a narrative about aliens (in either sense
of the word) or Tetris (Pajitnov, 1984) as a portrayal of the ‘‘overtasked lives of
Americans in the 1990s’’ (Murray, 1997, p. 144). However, the value of such anal-
yses is far from self-evident. The tools presented subsequently could be used to ana-
lyze either one of the previous examples but that would probably only be useful as a
scholarly exercise.
This article evokes Ryan (2002, p. 583) in noting that narrative ‘‘is a mental rep-
resentation that can be evoked by many media’’ and that ‘‘narrativity is a matter of
degree.’’ The analysis here tries to focus on games with a clearer narrative content,
even if the clarity is often just a matter of degree. Games combining narrative con-
tent with gameplay are here called ludonarrative games (cf. Aarseth, 2012).
The current analysis tries to steer away from other senses of narrativity, like the
retroactive attribution of a story to a sequence of events or the reporting of game
events to other people (cf. Herman, 1997). However, a thorough examination of
what narrativity and narratives in games are is outside the scope of this article.
Although the focus is on the semiotics of the tools discussed, any concept of narra-
tivity that is compatible with the following conception of narrativity should be com-
patible with the tools presented in this article:
1. Narratives can exist in any medium but vary in realization.
2. Narrativity exists in degrees.
698 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
3. Games can be combined with stories in different ways. Different combina-
tions lead to different meanings.
4. Not all that happens in a game is narrative, but most events have a narrative
aspect to them.
This is obviously not meant to be a complete explanation of game narrativity but
provides a framework within which meaning-effects can be understood. For a more
comprehensive account of games and narratives, see, for example, Aarseth (2012),
Calleja (2013), Frasca (2003), and Ryan (2002).
Meaning-Effects
This article shows how focalization, mode of narration, and granularity can be used
to create meaning-effects in video games. Varying the use of these tools produces
different meanings in literature and should therefore do so also in video games.
However, it is not claimed that these meaning-effects are stable or that they can
be said to produce consistently the same meaning-effects regardless of context
(Bundgaard, 2013). Rather, these meaning-effects are highly context dependent.
A meaning-effect is defined by Bundgaard (2010, p. 5) as ‘‘a cognitive response
to a textual stimulus.’’ Meaning-effects ‘‘cover the whole spectrum going from
purely emotional responses to highly elaborate interpretations’’ (Bundgaard, 2010,
p. 5). Here, a meaning-effect is not limited to a textual stimulus, but understood ana-
logously as something that is caused by a stimulus from a video game. This stimulus
may be, for example, textual or something like spoken language or haptic feedback
from a controller.
Understanding meaning as a cognitive response grounds meaning firmly in the
cognitive processes of the player. Players are here understood as a more or less uni-
form group, with relatively similar cognitive processes. However, limiting the mean-
ing in games to cognitive processes of a single isolated person does not do the
concept justice (Mayra, 2007). Instead, these cognitive processes should be seen
as happening in a complex context of (social) relations, ultimately making meaning
a contextual and social concept. The approach taken here leaves out all consideration
for cultural differences, but assumes that such differences would exist.
Studying how games can be used to create the meaning wanted by a designer,
how they create meaning despite the intentions of the designer, and how players create
meaning from the games they play is a large and complex set of questions, which is why
the focus is here limited to the more limited sense of meaning-effect. Meaning-effects
are one way meaning is created in relation to games but not the only way.
Tools for Meaning Making
Video games differ from literature in several aspects, for example, by being multi-
modal. The approach taken in this article does not deal with the ontology of
Arjoranta 699
games—trying to map out all the possible values of the variables discussed here—
but rather the focus is on the semiotics of these tools. The concepts discussed are
focalization, mode of narration, and granularity. These three concepts are discussed
together because they all pertain to the perspective and the way of telling the player/
reader what it is that they are seeing and how. They all concern the perspective of
telling: the way the narrative is told, and the point of view the narrative is told from.
Understanding how to vary the perspective enables designers to make the stories
they tell more effective in conveying the meanings they want to convey. This does
not mean that they are the only significant narratological tools useful for understand-
ing games. Development of other narratological tools is left for future research.
In addition to showing how these concepts apply to video games, they are
extended to cover cases that are not found in literature but are present in games. The
central differences requiring this extension are player agency, interactivity, and mul-
timodality (Arjoranta, 2011). These concepts are discussed in order to give game
scholars a more comprehensive vocabulary for studying how games create and con-
tain stories. Hopefully, these three concepts shed some light on how specific types of
meaning-effects are created in games. Designers can use these tools to convey the
things they want to convey in a consistent and effective manner.
Of course, the designer is not the sole authority on the meaning of a game. Both
the player’s interpretation and the context of play do shape the meaning. The final
result is necessarily a combination of authorial intent and player agency (Bizzocchi
& Tanenbaum, 2012). What designers can do is to aim for the best possible repre-
sentation of their intent.1
Focalization
Focalization is the point of view things are seen from (Bundgaard, 2010; cf. Ciccor-
icco, 2012; see also Evans & Green, 2006, p.196). This can be the point of view of a
character present in the story, those of several characters, or even outside any sen-
tient being, a point in space. Any of these can include evaluations, judgments, or
feelings. In the case of a point-in-space perspective, the evaluations can be those
of a narrator.
Genette (1988) calls this perspective. He classifies perspective into three cate-
gories: zero focalization, external focalization, and internal focalization (Elverdam
& Aarseth, 2007; cf. Ryan, 2002). With zero focalization, Genette means that the
story is not focalized into a character but is told from outside any of them. The dif-
ference between external and internal focalization is whether there is access to the
characters’ thoughts and emotions. External focalization gives a behavioristic view
on the characters, while internal focalization grants access to their mental land-
scapes. These can be mixed in a single narrative, and all three can be present. This
full scale of perspectives can be found in video games.
Nitsche (2005) uses a similar approach, basing his analysis on Mieke Bal’s (1997)
application of Genette’s terminology to visual perspectives. Nitsche makes an
700 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
important distinction between focalization and narrating voice. No strong narrating
voice may be present in a game, but the perspective can still be clear and distinct. A
full review of all possible perspectives in games would be beyond the scope of this
article. Some selected examples are discussed instead.
Games that are focused on the strategic level tend to have zero focalization. An
example would be the real-time strategy game Command & Conquer (Westwood
Studios, 1995), where the game is portrayed from a free-floating isometric view.
It can freely shift around the map, paying attention to areas chosen by the player.
Because of technical limitations, the point of view was limited to movement in two
dimensions, with the third dimension and the ability to zoom only added to later
games in the same genre.
The literal point of view of the camera angle should not be confused with the nar-
rative perspective, even though they often coincide. An abstract game may have very
little narrative content, in which case varying the perspective does not make the
game suddenly narrative, but in cases where the game has narrative content, choices
of perspective have narrative consequences.
A game may have a strategic level of abstraction and still utilize forms of foca-
lization other than zero focalization. Dawn of War II (Relic Entertainment, 2009) is a
strategy game that continues the same genre as Command & Conquer but focalizes
the single player game through a central protagonist. However, when playing other
modes (e.g., multiplayer), there is zero focalization.
Real-time strategy games use a ludic mechanics related to the point of view. It is
commonplace for the view of the player to be limited to a small area. This limitation
is described with a term borrowed from military theory, ‘‘fog of war.’’ The fog of
war works in two similar manners. First, only the area that the player’s units are able
to see is revealed to them. To learn about the surrounding terrain, it is necessary to
explore the game map. Second, when no units can see a certain area, changes in that
area are not shown to the player and that area is shown as partially hidden. Enemy
movement, new buildings, and other changes become evident only when the player
sends units to scout the area (see Figure 1).
This means that while the literal point of view might be a bird’s-eye view of the
map, the perspective at least partially blends with that of the commanded troops.
Only information available to them is available to the commander. This might be
explained in diegetic terms with communications technology or magic or seen as
an extradiegetic game mechanics.2
External focalization is typical to video games: the story is told from the perspec-
tive of a central protagonist, but from a behaviorist point of view, without access to
the character’s consciousness. A player may control the actions of the protagonist
without having access to their mental landscape.
This is where games differ from literature. The player’s perspective may be
inside the body of a character (i.e., first-person perspective), up to and including
having control of all of their actions, without having any access to their mental
perspective.
Arjoranta 701
An early example of this is the text adventure game Zork (Personal Software,
1977). The game is seen from the perspective of ‘‘you,’’ but this you lacks any dis-
tinct qualities (see Figure 2). This featureless you is used also in other text adventure
games (Karhulahti, 2012).
A later example of external focalization would be Half-Life (Valve Corporation,
1998). In Half-Life, the player controls the actions of Dr. Gordon Freeman. Because
Freeman stays completely silent during the game, his implied agency is based solely
on his actions. But the actions are almost completely controlled by the player, even
during the scripted sequences where the player’s own agency is limited.
This first-person external focalization is usually done for a specific meaning-
making effect: the player is supposed to identify with the tabula rasa-like character
(the anonymous you) through viewing the actions of that character as their own.
Whether this is successful depends heavily on other factors like the coherence of the
character’s actions when the player is not controlling them, the actions of other char-
acters within the story line, and their reactions to the player’s character. It is not
Figure 1. Fog of war in Freeciv (The Freeciv project, 1996). The two different shades of fog ofwar show two different types visibility.
702 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
enough to consider the player’s character in a vacuum, even if they are portrayed as a
blank slate but as a reactive part of the game world.
It can be argued that video games can make use of the character-internal perspec-
tive to achieve a perspective not available in literature. This perspective is embodied
in the physical perspective of the character being played but does not allow access to
their mental landscape in the manner of internal focalization. In other words, the
player has control over a character’s actions while not having access to the charac-
ter’s mental landscape. This can be used, for example, to deceive the player (cf.
unreliable narration subsequently).
An example of this is Assassin’s Creed III (Ubisoft Montreal, 2012). The Assas-
sin’s Creed series uses a metanarrative in which the player controls a protagonist
called Desmond in the games’ near-future present and Desmond’s different ances-
tors in their historical environments. A machine called Animus lets Desmond relive
the lives of his ancestors. Desmond is part of an organization known as the Assas-
sins, who fight against their eternal enemies, the Templars. Different games have
different ancestors fighting for the Assassins’ cause.3
Assassin’s Creed III uses the player’s expectations against them, by starting the
game off with a Templar protagonist, Haytham Kenway. In a clever narrative trick,
the player is made to play through missions that are essentially identical to the ones
carried out as an Assassin in previous games. The two factions are shown to be func-
tionally identical in their methods and pursuits. In the narrative, Haytham’s alle-
giance is neatly sidestepped: ‘‘Who should I say you are?’’ a character asks him.
‘‘You don’t. They’ll know,’’ Haytham answers. He is aware that he is working for
the Templars, but the player is not. Haytham does not need to state aloud something
Figure 2. The opening of Zork (Personal Software, 1977).
Arjoranta 703
that is obvious to him. It is only after few hours of play that the game reveals Hay-
tham’s allegiance: he initiates another character into the Templar order and at the
end of the ceremony states, ‘‘You are a Templar.’’
Interestingly, the game’s user interface is complicit in this deceit. When Hay-
tham is escorted by Templar allies in disguise, they are marked with a symbol
over their head to make sure the player knows which ones are allies and which
ones are enemies. However, the symbol over their head is not the symbol of the
Templars but that of the Assassins. This might be narratively explained in the
game with the fact that at least part of the game’s interface is part of the Ani-
mus, visible both to the player and Desmond. The assassin symbol might be
there for Desmond’s sake.
Assassin’s Creed III is an example of the perspective described above, since it lets
the player pursue all kinds of goals as Haytham but has them unknowingly help the
Templars. If the player had access to Haytham’s knowledge, they would learn about
his allegiance, since it is his central driving force and defining characteristic.
Instead, every strike the player strikes for the Assassins’ cause while playing Hay-
tham is actually a strike against them.
Some games use external focalization but place a filter of character emotion or
experience on what the player sees or hears (Nitsche, 2005). The perspective is
external to the character played, but the character’s emotions and experiences still
color the player experience.4 This is used for great effect in Max Payne (Remedy
Entertainment, 2001) and Dead Space 3 (Visceral Games, 2013).
In Max Payne, the player plays through Payne’s dream sequences. The first one is
a labyrinth of identical hallways that seem to lead nowhere. The screen is murky and
ominous, with the lighting reflecting Payne’s experience of the situation. Eventually,
the screen is tinted red as Payne approaches the bloody finale of the sequence. The
camera stays external but is very much affected by Payne’s experiences.
Dead Space 3 has a cooperative play mode, where two players control the char-
acters Isaac Clarke and John Carver. Both are controlled from the external perspec-
tive, but the players are still occasionally shown different things when the
characters’ experiences of the game world differ. This is significantly impacted
by Carver’s mental instability, forcing the player controlling him to play through
episodes of dementia.
Internal focalization can be achieved in games with measures similar to those in
literature. Presenting internal dialogue or describing a character’s experiences can be
done in different modalities in games. A direct analog to literature would be a writ-
ten description of the character’s emotions embedded within the game, but the same
effect can also be achieved with spoken internal dialogue.
Video games may also describe a character’s internal state by suddenly removing
player control and having the character act regardless of the player’s wishes, perhaps
in a harmful or destructive manner, a technique not available in literature. This sud-
den removal of control limits the player’s agency (Tanenbaum & Tanenbaum, 2009)
and can be used to highlight the player’s helplessness in the situation. Sicart’s (2009)
704 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
analysis of Bioshock (2K Boston, 2007) shows how this can be used to create ethical
meaning-effects.
Some games move the focalization from inside the character’s viewpoint to out-
side it when the character dies or goes unconscious. This disassociates the perspec-
tive from the character and signals that the player has lost control of the character’s
actions. An example of this is The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (Bethesda Game Studios,
2011). It is possible to play Skyrim from a third-person perspective, with the player
character visible on the screen, but the camera defaults to a first-person perspective.
However, when the player character dies, the camera moves away from behind the
character’s eyes and shows the character’s dead body (see Figure 3).
Another example of this change in perspective is usually known as the ‘‘kill
cam.’’ It is used in multiplayer modes of first-person shooters, like, for example,
in Call of Duty: World at War (Treyarch, 2008). A kill cam uses the same disasso-
ciated perspective discussed above, showing you the death of your character from an
outside perspective. But it places the perspective so that it follows your killer, show-
ing you the moments before your character’s death and the actions that lead to it.
This can be even more disassociating than simply witnessing the death of your char-
acter from outside, because in this case, the perspective is placed in the eyes of your
character’s killer. In this example, the mode of focalization stays the same, but the
focalizer changes.
There seems to be a possible meaning-effect related to this. The technique shows
how the controlled character is essentially interchangeable with other characters in
the game. The actions of your killer are similar or identical to the ones you were
Figure 3. The mighty Dragonborn, dead from falling down a cliff in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim(Bethesda Game Studios, 2011).
Arjoranta 705
undertaking trying to kill them. They happened to be faster, more accurate, or better
positioned than you and managed to kill you before you killed them, but it could
have been the other way round. You might even infer some hints as to what would
have changed the situation from seeing the world from your killer’s eyes for a few
seconds. While the feeling of embodiment may be strong when controlling a char-
acter in a first-person shooter, the last minute change of perspective reminds you that
the character is one of many, discarded as soon as it becomes unusable.
Both Mass Effect 2 (BioWare, 2010) and Tomb Raider (Crystal Dynamics, 2013)
use an opposite technique in their introduction. Both games are played from an
external perspective, with the player character portrayed on the screen. But both
games show parts of the introductory cinematic from an internal perspective, with
the camera situated where the character’s eyes would be. Again, it is an exception
to the way most of the game is portrayed, and perhaps an attempt to make the player
identify with the perspective of the character (soon to be) played.
These two contrary examples show how changing the focalization can be used
to create meaning-effects: to create a distancing effect, move the perspective from
an inside perspective to outside the character’s body or to an another body.
Coupled with a loss of control, this can be used to convey helplessness. To create
the opposite effect of identifying with a character, move the perspective inside the
character’s body.
It seems that games have all the same perspectives as literature (zero, external,
and internal focalization) at their disposal and an additional one. This embodied
focalization places the player in control of the actions of a character (or several char-
acters) and places the physical perspective inside the body of the character but does
not grant access to that character’s mental landscape. This is usually because that
character is created as a blank slate for the player to identify with and to fill out
as the game progresses.
Mode of Narration
Stanzel (1981) makes a central distinction in modes of narration by dividing narrat-
ing characters to teller characters and reflector characters. These can be equated with
Genette’s (1988) narrator and focalizer, respectively. The distinction between teller
characters and reflector characters does not necessarily follow the division to first-
and third-person narrators. First-person narrators that do not verbalize their thoughts
are not teller characters, if they do not communicate with the reader but only talk to
themselves (Stanzel, 1981).
The teller character is a narrator, somebody who conveys or reports the story, and
communicates with the reader in this manner. They are more or less conscious of the
fact that they are conveying a story to somebody and may comment, anticipate, or
otherwise make sure that the reader can follow what is being told. They may also
be unreliable by telling things that are not true in the narrative world or misdirect
the reader in some other manner.
706 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
An example of a game with an unreliable narrator is Call of Juarez: Gunslinger
(Techland, 2013). The game is narrated by the protagonist gunslinger, and the
events of the game consist of his narration and the speculations of his listeners.
This means that the facts of the game fiction change whenever the narration is
questioned (e.g., Indians turn into bandits in the middle of a fight), or the narrator
corrects someone else speculating on the events (e.g., a duel already won never
happened; see Figure 4).
Dragon Age 2 (BioWare, 2011) uses a similar technique. At the beginning of the
game, the player character appears very powerful, killing groups of enemies with
ease. This is because the beginning is narrated by an exaggerating narrator, later
coerced to remain closer to the truth. This change in narration is reflected on two
levels: in the game’s rules and visual depiction. The rules are changed, so that the
main character loses access to powers that were available in the beginning and does
less damage to the enemies. The visual depiction also becomes less hyperbolic. This
is even reflected in the breast size of a female character, with the breasts portrayed
significantly larger in the introduction than later on in the game.
In comparison, a reflector character is not a narrator and is not responsible for
conveying the tale. Instead, they experience it. The reader is presented with a
description of the character’s experiences as they experience them. This also means
that they cannot properly be considered deceitful, with the exception of self-deceit
(Stanzel, 1978). A reflector character can be confused or misled or they may refuse
to accept the truth, but they do not deceive the reader intentionally.
It is also important to make a distinction regarding what Stanzel (1978) calls the
person. He divides a person into the categories of identity and nonidentity. This has
Figure 4. Winning a duel that never happened in Call of Juarez: Gunslinger (Techland, 2013).
Arjoranta 707
to do with the worlds of the narrator and the fiction, which can be either identical
(homodiegetic) or separate (heterodiegetic), depending on whether the narrator inha-
bits the world they narrate (Genette, 1980).
Video games make use of both teller characters and reflector characters. Both
types of characters can also be used in several modalities. The modality in games
most similar to literature is the written text, which is present in most games. It can
be present as written dialogue, which may or may not be also voice-acted and vice
versa. This is common enough to be a feature of almost any game with discernible
characters, and even of many games with no characters. For example, in Eufloria
(May, Kremers, & Grainger, 2009), the narrating mother tree is the only character
with a distinct personality, but it is only present in the game through textual
narration.
Written text may also be present in the form of journals or similar texts that pro-
vide direct access to either a character’s thoughts or story events. It is common espe-
cially in role-playing games to have an in-game journal that catalogues both the past
events and the future goals of the player character (e.g., Skyrim [Bethesda Game Stu-
dios, 2011]). A journal can be diegetic (internal to the game world), extradiegetic
(external to the game world) or combine aspects of both, for example, by chronicling
the events of the story and providing instructions for the player.
Narration in games can also be done using a voice, for example, with a voice-
over. This form of explicit narration can be used either by teller characters or reflec-
tor characters, depending on whether the character is simply verbalizing their
thoughts for themselves or for the benefit of the player.5 Alan Wake (Remedy Enter-
tainment, 2010) has both textual and verbal narration. The textual narration is
encountered in the game as loose pages of a book that the player may pick up. The
voice-over is performed by Alan Wake, the game’s teller character.
It is also possible to break what is seemingly logical or possible within the game
world and produce different kinds of impossible narrators. This is often done in lit-
erature and cinema, for example, with narrators that survive their own deaths and
continue narrating the story. This can create surprise or amazement in readers/view-
ers witnessing this impossibility.
It is not necessary for the narrating character to be the protagonist, or even a char-
acter the player plays. Bastion (Supergiant Games, 2011) features a seemingly
omniscient teller character that follows the actions of the protagonist from an outside
point of view, but who is nevertheless a character within the fictional world.6 Bas-
tion is also a good example when discussing something Tavinor (2009) points out:
the events that happen in a video game are at least partially chosen by the player, and
in that sense might not be chosen for their narrative function. The actions players do
in games may instead serve a tactical or playful purpose.
This is highlighted in Bastion, when the narrator starts commenting on the play-
er’s repeated actions, like destroying the scenery. Destroying scenery instead of pro-
ceeding in the game’s story serves less and less narrative purpose. Bastion shows
that the role of the narrator might not be limited to conveying the narrative. While
708 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
the narrator is important in relaying the story of the game, it also spends large por-
tions of the game describing seemingly inconsequential events. This serves as a
reminder of the arguments Sicart (2011) and Ryan (2002) present on the contradic-
tion of play, interactivity and narrativity.
It seems that video games can use both teller characters and reflector characters in
ways similar to literature. Teller characters and reflector characters can use text, but
games also offer other means to convey their meanings. A common way of doing
this is by using spoken language. Additionally, a teller character could, for example,
break the fourth wall by pointing at things, gesturing, or making faces at the player.
This would imply that they acknowledge the presence of someone witnessing the
events taking place, even if the fictive world is incapable of perceiving them.
Because games generally require some kind of input from the player to proceed, it
follows that games as systems are built with the assumption that there is a person
witnessing the events of the game. If there is not, the game either does not continue,
waiting for the player to do something, or it will end very quickly, often with the
demise of the player character. This could be used for different kinds of meaning-
effects by varying the amount the characters are aware of and interact with the
player.
Granularity
According to Bundgaard (2010, p. 26), ‘‘[g]ranularity and density capture the fine-
ness/coarseness of a description and its richness with respect to elements mentioned
within it.’’ There is a natural level of granularity in literary description that corre-
sponds to how perception works (Bundgaard, 2013). There is a basic phenomenolo-
gical level on which humans are aware of their surroundings even when they are not
paying special attention to anything. By using this level of description, narration cre-
ates the impression that the described events correspond to the level of detail of
human perceptual experience.
Fictional worlds in both literary works and games are incomplete in the sense that
they never specify everything about the world (Juul, 2005). Another way of saying
this is to call fiction indeterminate, since they are never defined in perfect detail and
could correspond with many different states of being: there is no determinate way to
interpret fiction (Ingarden, Frizer, Chipp, 1970). Juul (2005) also argues that some
games have what he calls incoherent worlds, where the rules and fiction of the game
clash. His example is Donkey Kong (Nintendo, 1981) in which Mario has three lives
for no apparent fictional reason.
By relying on expectations regarding how perception works, narration can omit
many things and still remain coherent. For example, a text does not need to explicitly
mention that people are clothed, because that is the assumption of most readers. A
lengthy literary work could omit all descriptions of clothing without the readers
assuming that the characters are naked.
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Only deviations from the assumption of the basic level of description need to be
specified (Walton, 1990). In most contexts, being clothed hardly requires a mention.
Being clothed is the assumed standard because it reflects our everyday experiences
of people and their tendency to wear clothes. Ryan (1980) argues that interpreting
fiction, we use the principle of minimal departure to make sense of the world.
The principle states that we interpret fiction as being the closest equivalent to the
reality we know. Different contexts create different expectations: we cannot assume
equivalence as freely when discussing works of fantasy or science fiction.
Deviations from the norm can also be used to create meaning-effects. Sudden
changes in specificity can, for example, focus the reader’s or player’s attention to
some particular detail or object. This might signal focused attention from the char-
acter narrating the events. Constant focused attention or attention to things that feels
unnatural to the reader or player can create a feeling of alienation and possibly
reflect a distorted view of the world.
Games contain different types of granularity. It is possible to differentiate
between, for example, visual granularity and granularity of textual description,
sound and simulation. These types of granularity need not reflect the same level
of detail but can differ from each other by design.
Both visual granularity and granularity of simulation are issues that are associated
with the discussion of realism in games. Visual realism is often seen as an ideal to
aim for in games, something that increasing computing power is providing to a
degree higher than ever before. This emphasis on visual veracity reflects the dis-
courses on virtual reality or cyberspace, where the central purpose of technology
is to create a space where reality and representation become inseparable (e.g., Feath-
erstone & Burrows, 1995). These discourses seem to imply that as granularity
increases, mediation decreases (Ryan, 1999).
It is typical that a game portrays a level of visual granularity throughout or
changes between a few. Good examples are the normal view and the strategic map
of Civilization V (Firaxis Games, 2010). The first gives more fine-grained informa-
tion about the game world, portraying things in more detail, with the latter switching
to more iconic representations of the objects in the game world. In theory, the game
would be playable with just the icons, as they contain all the necessary information
for playing the game. This would lessen the visual granularity of the game and
remove things like character animations that are not necessary for playing the game
but add to the feel of it.
Usually, the levels of granularity stay constant throughout the game, and different
levels serve different purposes, like commanding troops within a sector or seeing the
overall situation of a war in a strategic war game with two levels.
Games differ greatly in what they choose to simulate, if they simulate anything at
all (entirely abstract games may not be simulations of anything else). This choice is
usually associated with the genre and theme of the game. What would be of major
importance in one game is insignificant or even banal in another. For example, Sim-
City 4 (Maxis, 2003) features simulations of waste management, but most games do
710 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
not. Simulating waste management is interesting only in the context of city manage-
ment, even if a simulation that aspired for realism would need to include it. The
choice of granularity focuses attention on specific elements of the game, highlight-
ing waste management as something necessary in understanding how cities work,
but as an unimportant concern in most games.
An illustrative comparison can be made between Civilization IV (Firaxis Games,
2005) and Civilization V. While pollution is simulated in Civilization IV, it is absent
from Civilization V. While the two games still simulate the same thing (empires),
players of Civilization V are free from environmental concerns. It would be tempting
to read a political statement into this. However, the game was simplified in many
aspects between its fourth and fifth instances. A likely explanation is that pollution
was one of the many systems that were deemed unnecessarily complex and removed
for that reason.
Another example can be found by looking at how games simulate the workings of
the human body. Skyrim and Fallout: New Vegas (Obsidian Entertainment, 2010)
simulate how the human body handles nutrition and rest in a similar manner, but
with small differences.
In Skyrim, the player character will receive stamina points, health points, or both
from eating and drinking different foods and drinks. The character will also heal
from sleeping and may receive a bonus to experience gain for sleeping in a bed
owned by the character. This is beneficial for surviving in the game, but not neces-
sary for completing it.
A player could, for example, choose to have their character in Skyrim eat nothing
during the game. While this would destroy the believability of the game as a simula-
tion, it would not have any effect on the game on the level of game mechanics,
except by making the game more difficult. In addition, the benefit gained from food
and drink is relatively minor when compared to healing and stamina potions. This
makes the incentive to spend time gathering and consuming food and drink small
in comparison to potions.
To understand the world of Skyrim, we would need to assume that it differs from
our own in how nutrition works and depart from Ryan’s (1980) principle of minimal
departure. Another way of reading the situation would be to assume that the world’s
fiction is incoherent in Juul’s (2005) terms. The second reading would make sense,
considering that most of the world’s inhabitants are involved with farming, even if it
is both ineffectual and unnecessary. It could be argued that the game world has dif-
ferent rules for the protagonist than for the rest of the population in order to accom-
modate the needs of playability.
If the player chooses the optional hardcore mode in Fallout: New Vegas, the
player character must eat, drink, and sleep. With this option enabled, it is necessary
to pay attention to the basic human needs of the character in order to complete the
game. Eating, drinking, and sleeping are no longer things that make the game easier,
but become something that is necessary to keep the player character alive and well.
Thematically appropriately Fallout: New Vegas also simulates radiation. Exposure
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to radiation has harmful effects on the player character’s body that will slowly harm
and eventually kill them.
The granularity of simulation in Fallout: New Vegas is more detailed than in
Skyrim when it comes to simulating human bodily functions. This change in spe-
cificity gives rise to different experiences of the game world: in Skyrim, the player
character may suddenly die from damage, but unless a tough monster or a misstep
from a high cliff kills them, they will continue to get stronger, eventually becoming
powerful enough to overcome any obstacle. Walking around the game world is an
adventure, and the game encourages bold exploration: even if the player encoun-
ters something too dangerous to challenge, they have the option of running away
and returning when their character is more experienced, better equipped, and more
powerful.
In contrast, exploration in Fallout: New Vegas is a more perilous activity. In addi-
tion to bandits and monsters, the player must be aware of the character’s need for
sustenance and of the harmful effects of radiation. Exploration can still be profitable
(and often is), yielding better equipment or wealth, but has an added layer of danger:
venture too far and too boldly, and you might not make it back. Running out of anti-
radiation medicine, food, and water while too far away from the nearest town can
lead to a death that is only reversible by returning to an earlier save game. Gaining
better equipment does not help if you die in the radioactive wasteland.
This contrast between Skyrim and Fallout: New Vegas shows a meaning-effect
that is achieved by altering the level of granulation in simulation. By simulating
human needs, Fallout: New Vegas places more emphasis on survival than Skyrim.
Of course, a cautious approach to save games make either game less likely to lead
to a dead end, lessening the effect in Fallout: New Vegas.
Here, developers of Fallout: New Vegas could have used similar game mechanics
than the makers of XCOM: Enemy Unknown (Firaxis Games, 2012). XCOM has a
game mode called Ironman, where the player is prevented from keeping more than
one saved game. All choices in the game are final, and the player simply has to
accept any failures. This gives all choices weight that is lacking from the games
which accept repeated cycles of saving and loading.
Both Skyrim and Fallout: New Vegas have one thing in common in their simula-
tion of the human body: both use the abstract measure of hit points to simulate char-
acter health. Regardless of what other simulation systems these games use for
measuring health, loss of hit points is the most common cause of a character’s death.
In both games, characters can go through truckloads of food and drink in a matter of
minutes in order to get more hit points. This causes no ill effect on their stomach or
digestive system—things not simulated in the game.
The examples discussing SimCity 4 and the two Civilization games and compar-
ing Skyrim to Fallout: New Vegas are just some of the ways different granularities of
simulation can lead to the player experiencing the game differently. Even small dif-
ferences in simulation can lead to large differences in experience, as is the case with
Skyrim and Fallout: New Vegas.
712 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
Conclusions
This article has not tried to build a comprehensive overview of how the tools it
describes are used, but has focused on presenting differences and possibilities in
using them. Therefore, the results are eclectic rather than exhaustive, focusing on
showing theoretical possibilities in understanding certain ways of expressing things
with games.
The examples used in this article draw from existing games, showing that the
techniques described here are already in use. What is lacking is a comprehensive
understanding how to use these techniques, a recognized language that enables
designers to choose the best tool for the task, and academics to identify when one
is used. With this goal in mind, Table 1 summarizes some of the findings of this arti-
cle, hoping that further research complements these results.
As can be seen from the table, many of the tools mentioned concern identification
or association. This may either mean that these are common tools, easily used by
designers. However, it may also mean that they are easy to identify and I have failed
to notice other options. I invite others to extend the examples I have given to fix any
possible oversights.
Table 1. Meaning Making Tools Summarized.
Tool Meaning-Effect Games
Fog of war Uncertainty of the surroundings andidentification with controlledcharacters
Dawn of War II,Command & Conquer,and Freeciv
Tabula rasa Identification with played character Zork and Half-Life
Hidden motives Reevaluation of earlier actions Assassin’s Creed III
Emotional filter Identification with characterperspective and access to characteremotions from an external perspective
Max Payne and DeadSpace 3
Removal of control andchange to an externalperspective
Helplessness and disassociation Bioshock and Skyrim
Change to your killer’sperspective
Disassociation Call of Duty: World atWar
Change to internalperspective
Identification with played character Mass Effect 2 and TombRaider
Unreliable narration Doubt about the narrated events Call of Juarez and DragonAge 2
Narration of interactiveelements
Highlighting meaningful actions Bastion
Selective simulation Highlighting important systems andde-emphasizing other aspects
SimCity 4, Civilization IV& 5, Skyrim, and Fallout:New Vegas
Arjoranta 713
One possible reading on why many of the tools concern identification is that
games need these tools in order to reach the level of identification more easily pro-
vided by the expressive techniques of literature: internal dialogue, access to charac-
ter motivations, well-rounded characterizations, and so on. This reading could be
used to argue that games use these techniques not because they are easy, but because
they are necessary. Not all games try to convey narratives, but the ones that do need
to employ tools that suit the task games have traditionally struggled with, combining
interactive entertainment with high-quality storytelling.
Another possible reading would be that the tools are actually playing on games’
strengths. Games that combine narrative content with interactive gameplay are in the
unique position of giving the player characters to look at, explore the world through,
and play with. In some sense, this relation is more intimate than in literature, with
player action and character action blending into a whole where it can be hard to tell
one apart from the other. However, it is exactly here that new possibilities emerge:
like the examples of Bioshock and Assassin’s Creed III show, there is room for new
tools where games develop their own expressive language that can convey meanings
not easily communicated through other media.
Designers can hopefully look at these techniques and see the possibilities they
offer, but also notice what has not been done. Focalizations still tend to follow one
character, narration usually stays safely within four walls, and hit points are an
enduring abstraction. Experimental literature breaks conventions with admirable
reliability. One hopes games would have even more room for play.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, author-
ship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship,
and/or publication of this article: This article has been funded by the Academy of Finland and
is a part of the research project Ludification and the Emergence of Playful Culture (276012).
Notes
1. For practical approaches designers use to aspire for a commonly shared vision, see, for
example, Hagen (2010).
2. This study uses the term ‘‘diegesis’’ in order to clarify some aspects of the discussion.
However, the term is not unproblematic when applied to games (see, e.g., Jørgensen,
2013, pp. 65–67).
3. Assassin’s Creed III is actually the fifth game in the main series. The second game in the
series received two sequels. Additionally, there were already three games for handheld
consoles and few more for mobile devices.
4. This can be likened to the literary concept of free indirect discourse.
714 Games and Culture 12(7-8)
5. Of course, all narration is ultimately for the benefit of the player, but analytically this dis-
tinction can still be made.
6. When the protagonist first finds the narrator, he comments, ‘‘He finds me. We talk for a
spell.’’
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Author Biography
Jonne Arjoranta, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Jyvaskyla, Finland.
His main research interests are playful politics and the structures of meaning found in games.
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